


This Monstrosity Doesn't Deserve a Real Title

by mind_and_malady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Collars, Dom!Cas, Dom!Sam, Dom/sub, Leashes, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Sub!Dean, Sub!Gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:32:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2456585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_and_malady/pseuds/mind_and_malady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Friday night. In other words, it's movie night, and everyone is quite excited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Monstrosity Doesn't Deserve a Real Title

**Author's Note:**

> So I heard you like porn.

Sam’s wide smile is drawn out by the high, needy whine that escapes Gabriel as he sucks Sam’s fingers clean of the sticky juice from the strawberry slice he’d been fed. He laughs quietly, pulling his fingers from Gabriel’s eager mouth to gently tug on the supple leather leash attached to the golden D-ring of Gabriel’s collar. Gabriel obediently moves from his kneeling position on the couch next to Sam to lying half-curled on his side, his head in Sam’s lap, face turned towards Sam’s stomach.

Sam strokes his hair gently, and feeds him another strawberry slice indulgently. “Good boy,” he murmurs, and Gabriel preens under the praise. Sam settles further into the couch, continuously petting Gabriel’s hair and feeding him until the fruit is gone, only half watching the movie playing on the television in front of them. It’s an easy, rather relaxing session for the moment, Gabriel naked and at Sam’s whim on the couch, both of them simply lounging there. But it’s only going to be slow-paced until Gabriel loses his patience and starts to fidget.

He hasn’t yet, so they stay there. They stay there until the movie is over, and the next one rolls on; they’re about halfway through it when the door to the bunker bangs open, Castiel’s low voice colored with frustration as he scolds Dean. Sam resists the urge to laugh. Castiel had taken Dean out for a _walk_ , just the two of them going into town with Dean wearing his collar. He’d taken Dean out for a walk or two himself in the past, and Sam had ended up in pretty much the same place Castiel was now: frustrated, annoyed, and ready to deal out some _real_ punishment.

Gabriel lifts his head slightly from Sam’s lap at the noise, and Sam tightens his grip in the soft hair. Gabriel shudders, head falling back to Sam’s lap as his eyes roll up and close. His grip loosens, strokes becoming gentle again. Sam waits patiently, listening as Castiel gives Dean orders too quiet for him to hear, though he can hear the slight stumble in Dean’s steps as he walks away.

Castiel walks over to them, having left his trench coat and suit jacket hanging over a chair in the library, and pauses behind his usual armchair at the sight of them. “May we join you?” he asks, looking at Sam, his voice tense underneath the polite formality.

Sam uses his free hand to gesture towards the chair. “Sure,” he says, and smiles a little. “I take it the walk didn’t go well.”

Castiel groans. “He’s been doing so well,” he bemoans. “So very, _very_ well. I thought we’d trained this out of him.”

Sam lets out a low breath of laughter. “Dean’s a stubborn mule. You can’t train anything out of him permanently; oh, he’ll stop for a while, but then he forgets what kind of punishment comes with flirting, and needs to be _reminded_.”

Castiel’s look turns appraising. “You sound familiar with it. I’d ask you for assistance in his lesson, but you appear to be occupied.”

Sam glances down at Gabriel, lying loose and relaxed in Sam’s lap, probably floating somewhere between conscious thought and sleep, barely aware of his surroundings. He runs his thumb around half of the thick band of the collar, and presses the digit against Gabriel’s lips. His mouth opens to take it, swirling his tongue around it and sucking slightly, eyes half-lidded and dark.

“True,” Sam acknowledges, not looking away from the being in his lap. “Let me know next time you want to take him out. I’ll bring Gabriel, and we can head over to that club on 7th. Feel free to stay here for his punishment, though. An audience is always helpful.”

Castiel hums his approval. “I like that idea. A public flogging might do him some good. All those people watching him break.” A certain light shines in Castiel’s eyes as he thinks about it. “That is an _excellent_ idea, Sam. But I don’t think we’ll stay very long tonight. I’d hate to distract you.”

Dean walks in, naked, his face flushing red when Castiel and Sam look towards him. “It would be a shame if I were distracted,” Sam agrees, focus entirely centered on Gabriel now, but he sees Castiel pull Dean into his lap, grip already tight enough to bruise.

Sam pulls his thumb from Gabriel’s mouth, watching as he tries to chase after it. He trails his fingers slowly down Gabriel’s spine, occasionally digging in to draw quiet moans from him. While his right hand continues travelling down Gabriel’s spine towards his ass, Sam reaches out for the lube on the end table with his free hand. He grips Gabriel’s hip, gently pushing him so he uncurls almost lazily, legs stretching out to take up the rest of the sofa. Gabriel’s whine when Sam stops touching him is quickly cut off by his groan as a lube-slick finger slowly presses into his hole, firm and slightly cold, his relaxed, pliable body accepting it with the utmost ease.

Sam hears his brother’s sharp intake of breath, and holds back a smile as Castiel starts talking. “I thought you should watch for a little while,” he murmurs, quietly enough that Sam knows that he’s speaking almost directly into Dean’s ear. “Because this is as close as you’re going to get to being fucked tonight, Dean.”

Dean lets out a noise that could be called a whimper. “Cas, _please._ I’m sorry,” he pleads, the sound of his voice accompanied by the quiet clink of chains. Castiel prefers metal to leather, so Dean’s collar is fur lined steel, with a matching set of cuffs and a thin steel chain for a leash. The leash can be clipped to the chain that normally connects the cuffs, and when Sam glances up, he sees that Castiel has even cuffed his hands behind his naked back.

Castiel tugs the metal chain linking collar and cuffs sharply, and Dean gasps, head pulled back by the force. “You need to learn the consequences of misbehaving. Maybe, if you manage to stay on your best behavior and _watch_ like I told you too, I’ll even let you come tonight.”

The high whine that escapes Dean’s throat as Castiel lets go of the chain is music to Sam’s ears, part of the symphony that’s being created while he pushes a second finger slowly into Gabriel and draws a long, beautiful moan from him. He scissors the digits slowly, pushing against Gabriel’s walls and pointedly avoiding his prostate. Sam tugs gently on Gabriel’s hair, drawing another needy groan from him between his panting breaths. He slips a third finger inside after a minute, and abruptly crams his fingers against Gabriel’s prostate. His back arches as he lets out a wail, and Gabriel thrusts into the couch before he can stop himself.

“Fuck,” he pants out desperately, hands clenching as he forces himself still. “Fuck, fuck, sorry, sorry –“ his words cut off on another high whine as Sam demonstrates his understanding by dragging his fingers across Gabriel’s prostate again. “Sam. Sam _please_. Need you, Sam, please.”

“Not yet,” Sam says patiently, and Gabriel lets out a wrecked groan. He’s been hovering just inside of his subspace for hours, pretty much since Sam put his collar on and stripped him, but now he’s floating in it blissfully, existing in a place where physical sensation reigns over everything else, and all Gabriel can think about is how badly he needs Sam. Sam can’t help but feel a little gratified at how easy it is to reduce Gabriel to nothing more than fractured words and panting breaths, can’t help the burst of pride that he’s the one Gabriel trusts enough to submit to.

“ _Please_ ,” he repeats, voice raw and desperate and begging. “Please, Sam, fuck me, need you, _please_ fuck me.”

“You’ve been such a good boy, Gabriel,” Sam sighs, voice remarkably steady for someone with their fingers up the ass of an archangel draped over their lap. “But don’t think I won’t stop if you can’t be patient for a little while longer.”

Gabriel lets out another long whine, but words don’t escape his lips. Sam smiles, and tugs on his hair as he presses against Gabriel’s prostate again. The world blurs briefly as Gabriel’s mouth opens in a soundless scream, back arching and muscles trembling, _aching_ with the need to come, even if he knows what’ll happen if he does before being told he’s allowed to. He falls limply into Sam’s lap again, a punched-out noise of pleasure falling out of him as Sam slips in a forth finger.

Castiel watches while his brother is plucked apart and tortured under Sam’s skilled hands, and pulls on Dean’s chain slightly to tilt his head back, just a little, so his hunter has to strain to keep his eyes on their brothers. He bites into Dean’s ear sharply, nearly hard enough to break the skin, and sucks long enough that he knows the bruise there will be purple, holding back a smile when Dean groans. He repeats the action at the top of Dean’s spine, his neck, his shoulders – everything in reach of his mouth is fair game, biting and sucking his ownership into Dean’s bare skin.

“Stand up,” he commands, and Dean stands on shaky legs. Castiel stands and moves behind Dean, unclipping his leash from the cuffs and the cuffs from each other. He puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders and turns him so that he can see Dean’s bright green eyes, blown wide with arousal, can see him chewing on the inside of his lip in nervous expectation. He reconnects the cuffs in front, but lets out some slack between them so Dean can hold his hands a little further than shoulder width apart, and the chain on the back of Dean’s collar lengthens till it’s hanging around his knees.

“I want you on all fours,” Castiel commands. Dean swallows, and sinks to his knees before falling forward on his hands. He keeps his head bowed low, nearly perpendicular to the floor. When Castiel picks up his chain and starts walking, Dean follows.

Sam notices that they leave, but hardly pays it any mind. Instead, he focuses on the punched-out noises that escape Gabriel on every thrust of his fingers, the way his body is sweaty and trembling, and how Gabriel is fighting against the urge to come so hard that there are tears pricking in his eyes. When those tears actually spill over, dripping onto the couch with Gabriel’s muffled sob, Sam takes pity on him. He draws his fingers out of Gabriel’s ass, listens as he lets out a high keen of need, kicking his shoes somewhere towards the other side of the room.

He hauls Gabriel backwards by his shoulders, sliding out from under him before lowering him back against the cushions. Gabriel lets out an unbroken stream of high, quiet whimpers while Sam quickly strips himself, lost noises of need and pleading and a little bit of fear. Sam drapes himself overtop of Gabriel as much as he can on the couch, his chest to Gabriel’s back, his groin firmly settled between Gabriel’s ass. The noises get louder, almost entirely need now, and Sam has to restrain himself from coming all over Gabriel’s prettily gaping hole while he slicks himself.

The sound Gabriel makes when he slowly slides inside is loud and obscene, and his hands scramble at the couch for some kind of purchase, another sob breaking free of his throat as he tries not to come. Sam lets out a long breath once he’s all the way in, waiting for the urge to come then and there to pass. The pace he sets is almost a punishment in itself, thrusts slow and shallow and calculatedly lazy.

“Sam,” Gabriel gasps, and his name is a prayer. “Sam, please, _please_ , come, need to, please, _Sam.”_

“Hold on for me,” Sam murmurs, hips slowly gaining pace. “Just a little while longer.”

Gabriel heaves in another breath, only to lose it on a sob as Sam brushes over his prostate, his entire body stiffening up and shaking. Sam holds the angle, ramming against Gabriel’s prostate over and over as he picks up the pace.

Heat coils in the base of his spine, and Sam reaches underneath of Gabriel to firm tug on his cock, pulling a startled cry and a shaky thrust from him. Gabriel tries to still himself, but Sam tugs again, twisting his wrist a little and ramming into his prostate, and Gabriel thrusts into Sam’s hand like he can’t stop himself. “That’s it,” Sam says. “Come, Gabriel.”

The order is accompanied by a bite sharp enough to break the skin in a couple of places along his shoulder-blade and another hit on his prostate, and now that he has permission, Gabriel lets himself go with a scream, his body shaking and twitching, spine bending deliciously. Sam fucks him through it, pulling out as he comes to paint the archangel’s ass and thighs white. He nearly drops on top of Gabriel, but he catches himself with his arms braced on either side of Gabriel’s head.

The couch is a mess, covered in their come and ripped in a few places where Gabriel’s angelic strength had gotten away from him. It doesn’t really bother Sam – they’ve destroyed furniture before, and it wasn’t difficult to replace. He’s more worried about the trembling, crying archangel underneath of him. Sam shifts himself off the couch, kneeling on the floor beside Gabriel so he can see his face, and gently runs his thumb over Gabriel’s cheekbone.

“Gabriel?” he asks gently, and a violent tremor shakes Gabriel’s body. “You alright, sweetheart?”

Gabriel nods slightly, despite his tears and shaking limbs. Sam moves, sits back down on the couch and carefully cradles Gabriel against his chest like a child. Gabriel curls against him, burrows into Sam’s chest like he wants to crawl inside where it’s safe and warm and never ever come out again. Sam pets his hair and gently strokes his back, peppering soft kisses against his face and neck. “You were such a good boy, Gabriel,” he murmurs in praise. “Such a very good boy for me.”

Gabriel shudders, tries to plaster himself impossibly closer to Sam. After a few minutes, and once Gabriel’s trembling has mostly subsided, Sam gently picks him up. Gabriel curls into him, making quiet happy noises. “Bath?” he asks, content and sleepy.

Sam smiles indulgently. “Bath,” he agrees.

Gabriel opens a sleepy eye. “Bubbles?” He sounds childishly hopeful.

Sam laughs, and presses a kiss to Gabriel temple. “Sure,” he agrees. “We can have bubbles.” Gabriel smiles, satisfied, and tucks his head under Sam’s chin, content and warm and safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I found this completely finished in my drafts. I have no idea where this came from, or who to blame for it, but it was there. I cannot believe I actually wrote this. I don't remember writing it it at all, but what the hell, why not post it on the internet?


End file.
